


The Casino Job: Post-Credits Scene

by HeartOfTheMirror



Series: 15 Minute Fics [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bucky is a mercenary, Canon-Typical Violence, Dildos, M/M, Modern Era, SHIELD, pre-catws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfTheMirror/pseuds/HeartOfTheMirror
Summary: Bucky broke free of his brainwashing in the '80s and has been a mercenary on Shield's hit list ever since. However, when Shield thaws his boyfriend out like a Thanksgiving turkey, Bucky has to come up with a plan for their very own happily ever after.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> This is un-beta'ed.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Bucky shouted as soon as he’d kicked in the front door to the apartment. The place was a shambles, so at least he knew they didn’t give a fuck about secrecy anymore.

He used to love leaving out dildos on the kitchen counter, buried between the couch cushions, just to make their job more interesting. 

Bucky marched over to the mess on his once gleaming grey marble countertop and shoved it all into a big pile so he could set down his heavy reusable grocery bags and dig his cell out of his right ass pocket.

“Hello?” Steve said in that stern serious voice that told Bucky he wasn’t alone.

“Stevie, baby, you gotta get these Sheild fuckers out of my ass or I swear to god next time you’ll be fishing them out of the fucking Hudson.”

“No,” Steve said, sounding genuinely perplexed. “I’m very happy with my cable package. I think. Tony, that tv in my apartment, it runs on cable, right?”

Bucky couldn’t help snorting as he swiped his loose hair out of his eyes. And listened to Tony quip through the inadequate speakers. 

“Bottom line, darlin’, I don’t have the fucking flash drive, okay? I never had the flash drive. I never gave a fuck about the flash drive. So please tell those pieces of shit to leave me alone before I start to Hulk-rage on their asses, capisce?”

“Well, I’ll be sure to pass that information on to my current cable provider, ma’am,” Steve said, because he was a little shit.

“I never gave a fuck about the flash drive, I haven’t seen it since the fucking casino job and good fucking riddance as far as I’m concerned. Make sure you tell them that.”

“I don’t think that’s quite true,” Steve said slowly, as though considering the words when Bucky knew that the flash drive was something that Steve had a metric fuck-ton of opinions about. “But I’ll be sure to mention that the next time I’m having an outage.” 

There was the tiniest little squeak from behind the bathroom door and Bucky sighed.

“Thanks. Listen, I think there’s still someone in my bathroom. I’m gonna get all Pulp Fiction on his ass. Love you, babydoll.”

“I don’t think that’s a good-” Steve tried to say.

“Oh, and wear the blue suit with the red tie to the gala, sweetheart. I’ll be watching.” And then Bucky hung up, listening to the incredibly flattering sound of Steve choking on air over him.

It was difficult, when his missions and Steve’s didn’t line up neatly. It wasn’t like Bucky was heartless, or anything, he never took a job he thought might violate Steve’s strict moral code. That he told Steve about, anyway. 

Sure there were still a few assassinations here and there, but those were mostly dickbags, dictators, and maybe a couple asshole CEOs- and only then because it was so deeply satisfying to cut the strings on those golden parachute types. And the paycheque certainly helped with the bills. 

When the Shield agent in the bathroom finally made a break for it, guns blazing, Bucky had already been waiting beside the door with a steak knife in one hand and a chef’s knife in the other.

He struck swiftly and the agent screamed as he found his gun hand pinned to the drywall with a knife through the middle. 

“Alright,” Bucky said, “quit your blubbering, kid. I’m not really gonna dump your cold, lifeless body in the Hudson. That river is polluted enough as it is.” Which of course, did not help the junior agent maintain control of his emotions, or his bowels. 

“I don’t know why you assholes won’t believe me about the fucking flash drive, but I have to say I’m really sick of you sneaking around my apartment. Do you have any idea how long it’s gonna take to clean up this shit? I bet you even ripped open that present I had on top of my dresser, didn’t you, pipsqueak?”

The trademark little squeaking sound the junior agent made was confirmation enough.

“That was for _Steve_ ,” Bucky growled, getting right in the kid’s face.

“Red lace-” the kid started to say, confused. 

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t know so much about our bedroom habits if you would. Keep. Out. Of. My. Apartment.” Bucky said, shaking the kid by his collar.  
“I’m just following orders,” the junior agent said. “You’re a terrorist. I’m doing my job.” 

“First of all, I’m not a terrorist I’m a mercenary, and second of all did you even hear of the Nuremberg Trials? Jesus fucking Christ, kids these days. Listen, pipsqueak, your organization is a corrupt pile of dogshit.”

“We have Captain America!” the boy protested, as if that somehow proved that trusting, naive Steve wasn’t a soldier who desperately wanted to believe in his country’s security apparatus like the best of them.

“Don’t I know it,” Bucky said, mopping his face with his metal hand. He and Steve had had more than one fight about the whole ‘leaving Shield’ notion. The irony of it was that it was _Bucky_ who had argued against the idea. 

He’d been a gun for hire since the ‘80’s and he was perfectly happy as long as he got to choose his jobs and do them on his terms. Steve could never live that life, or retire for that matter. He was a German Shepherd or a Border Collie- needed a job to do to burn off his energy and moral indignation or he’d just start chewing on the furniture. 

And, of course, the work Steve did with Shield was actually good. They only gave him the above board ops. Steve hadn’t even believed him about what happened under the table until that fucking casino job.

And maybe if Steve left the shit pit that was Shield Steve and Bucky could be happy together, but Steve himself…. That was a different story. He would rot in inactivity, forced to live with the fact that Bucky had his work but Steve had nothing. Somehow, Bucky wasn’t sure how many of Steve’s Avengers buddies would stick around once he ran off to elope with an infamous assassin.

Deep down, maybe Bucky could even admit that he was afraid of Steve resenting him for it all later, once the dust had settled and the boredom sprouted and grew into a restless apathy.  
Bucky just needed some time, to figure things out. To find a better way so that they could be together without constantly being on the run, being hunted. 

“If you kill me, Shield will be all over you. There won’t be anywhere you can run, nowhere you can hide,” the little mini-agent said, lifting his chin in an attempt to show that he wasn’t afraid.  
Bucky eyed the recruit with a deeply skeptical look.

“Kid, I’ve bent bending Captain America over the Triskellion’s main conference table for like, five times,” Bucky said, judiciously not mentioning that time in Fury’s office, which had taken so much persuasion and a whole lot of playing dirty. Deeply, deeply, satisfying though. “If Shield were capable of chastising me, they would have done it before now. And little grunts like you barely show up on the radar so if you think anyone’s coming for you-”

“James,” Romanova said, he hip cocked against Bucky’s open doorway. She was in civvies, and her sunglasses were dangling carelessly between two fingers. “It’s so hard to find good help these days,” the Widow said dryly. “Don’t kill the kid.”

“I was never gonna kill him Nat. I just thought the whippersnapper could use a good talking to,” Bucky said, smiling charmingly at his second favorite Avenger. Natasha just rolled her eyes. 

“That old man schtick looks much better on Steve,” she said.

“Oh, doesn't everything?” Bucky sympathized. Natasha gave another one of her dry smiles. He’d count that as a win. “I believe this belongs to you, ma’am,” Bucky said, ripping his knife from the wall and hauling the recruit over to Natasha. 

Natasha spared a severe look at Bucky over the hand.

“He rifled through Steve’s gift, Nat. Our anniversary present. And do you have any idea how long it’s gonna take to clean this shit up?” Bucky defended.

“I know you hate Shield, but not everyone is in it for the wrong reasons,” Natasha said. “We’re cleaning house. Which would be a lot easier if we had that intel you stole.” She didn’t try to be subtle about her searching glance, which was even more telling than Agent McMakeAMess’s shenanigans had been.

“Ok,” Bucky sighed, “For the last time, for everyone in the peanut gallery, I didn’t want to steal the flash drive, it just happened to be in the safe when I swept it. I don’t give a fuck about the flash drive. There was never a fuck given Nat, not even a single little fledgling fuck like that one,” he said, nodding at the whimpering junior agent.

Natasha shrugged like the answer was irrelevant to her. “You might want to consider moving,” she said offhandedly slipping her sunglasses back on.

“It’s on my to-do list,” he said. He watched her go with a little smile on his face. The flash driven hidden in the heel of his left boot was gonna go a long way towards blackmailing Steve and Bucky’s freedom when the time was right.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! 
> 
> Comments and kudos are the fuel that feeds my fire <3


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